


Just Sleeping

by getreadysetnope



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2580332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getreadysetnope/pseuds/getreadysetnope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a bed with Stiles had been a necessity. It was college visit season and the small, local hotel had run out of double bed rooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Sleeping

Sharing a bed with Stiles had been a necessity. It was college visit season and the small, local hotel had run out of double bed rooms.

That had been fine. They were both grown (mostly in Stiles' case) and could handle a bit of sharing just fine for one night before piling back into Stiles' jeep to return home.

It had started out fine, Stiles passing out in a position that made John's neck hurt until he pushed the boy fully onto the bed like a normal person. Then he'd hit the lights and gone to sleep himself.

In the middle of the night is when things had gotten... strange. When John had half woken up hard and straining like he hadn't done in damn near decades, humping against a pliant, moaning warmth against him. He went still at the noise, eyes adjusting to the dark of the room to see the back of Stiles' head in front of him. He'd somehow managed to roll onto his side, flush against his son's back.

"Fuck," Stiles whispered, back arching and ass pressing against John's aching cock.

In a sort of panic, John rolled onto his back,  trying to will his hard on away. He could heard Stiles' muffled little noise of disappointment in the silence and quickly shut his eyes before his boy could roll over and see if he was awake. It would be an awkward conversation that neither of them needed.

Silence continued and Stiles' breathing evened out until it was to slow, even sound of sleep. All while John was stuck wide awake and trying to figure out what the hell had just happened there.

Had Stiles woken up when he had? Had he--had he been awake the whole time?  Had he enjoyed what he felt or been horrified?

It was enough to keep John hard and awake for too long before he mercifully succumbed to sleep again.

And when he woke up this time, the faint light of dawn was just threatening to peek in through the windows. And Stiles? Stiles was still next to him. But this time he was on his stomach, grinding slowly against the bed. His narrow hips working beneath the thin blanket, pink little mouth open in wordless pleasure as he mindlessly worked to get himself off in his sleep.

God help John, the very sight made him hard. It made him reach down between his thighs to take his cock in hand and work it in time with Stiles' jerky, little movements. He bit his lip to keep from making any noise as he slowly worked himself off to the sight of his son fucking the mattress.

He should have rolled onto his side, away from Stiles. Shouldn't have even looked once he knew what was happening in bed next to him. But for the first time in a very long while, he was too horned up to care past the need to get off.

He worked himself slowly and in time with Stiles' own movements. Like he was pinning his boy down and fucking him instead of the dream. Even with how turned on he was, he wanted this to last, to remember it for when he was alone in the dark and willing to give into these terrible urges.

It continued like that, the only noise being the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet squeak of the mattress springs, and the choked off little whimpers from Stiles.

When Stiles went still again, John had to stifle down a groan of disappointment. He'd been so fucking close to cumming, just shooting his load all over the worn out t-shirt he'd worn to bed right next to his son. What was so wrong with him? He glanced to to make sure Stiles had just settled back to sleep, but found his eyes open and staring down at the bulge under the blankets where John still had his leaking cock fisted.

He watched Stiles lick his pink lips so they looked shiny and wet, making John's cock jump. Stiles looked up at him before very slowly pulled the blanket off himself to show where he'd worked his boxers halfway down his thighs in his sleep. Then he very deliberately rolled his hips so the muscles in his thighs and ass flexed.

John went still, breath caught in his throat at the sight of his son performing for him. This wasn't some sort of reflex left over from whatever Stiles had been dreaming about. It wasn't until Stiles did it again, humping the mattress with a wanton little groan that John was shaken out of his daze. He gave his dick a squeeze to keep from coming then and there like he was Stiles' age again.

Feeling a sort of boldness in the dark silence of the room, John pulled the blanket down to expose himself, letting Stiles see the flushed red and wet head of his cock where his hand didn't cover.

"Fuck," Stiles groaned, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared down at it, hips grinding frantically in a little circle for more friction on his cock. "Fuck."

John responded by rocking his own hips, fucking his own hand in slow, slick movements.

Stiles' eyes went wide, hips stilling to just watch his daddy's cock getting worked over. Then he glanced up, catching John's eye as he slowly pressed his middle finger into his mouth to suck on, a little bit of saliva getting his chin shiny before he pulled it out. He spread his thighs apart, giving himself more room to work as he slowly worked that finger into his hole.

And it must have been tight going by the sounds the boy made, the bitten off groans of both discomfort and pleasure.

"Stiles," John choked out, wishing so much that it was his finger inside his boy. So he could see if he was as soft and tight as John had thought.

"Please," Stiles groaned, fucking himself in earnest with that long, slender finger. "I need--"

John shook his head, shying away from the thought of what he--they both wanted right now. He couldn't. "We can't."

Even the desperate little whimper at that couldn't break John from this. He couldn't do that to his own son. Not even with where they'd gotten to now. It was too wrong, too immoral.

"We did before," Stiles whined, dragging his finger out of himself and leaving a shiny little trail across his ass cheek.

"We were asleep," John said, trying to be gentle even as he was throbbing with need. He hadn't moved his hand once he'd spoken. Everything was too real now.

Stiles went silent, turning his head away sullenly. "Then go back to sleep," he muttered, rolling onto his side like he'd been the first time they woke up. He didn't pulled up the blankets, leaving himself naked and exposed save for the boxers still around his thighs.

It took John a moment to slowly let go of his cock as he watched his son's back for any sudden movements. When nothing came, he quietly kicked the covers down on his half of the bed.

Without the covers, the cold of the room would force anyone to seek out bodyheat as they slept.

Then he rolled onto his side too, every rustle of fabric was deafening in the quiet room as he very slowly moved behind his son. He could see the goosebumps on Stiles' skin. Whether from anticipation or from the cold, he didn't really know. But it was enough to force him the rest of the way, spooning up against Stiles' back.

He was rewarded by a pleased little groan from his boy and a little shift of his hips back so that John's cock was practically wedged between his ass cheeks, head rubbing against the small of Stiles' back. "Fuck, dad," Stiles whispered.

"We're sleeping," John muttered, working one hand beneath Stiles so he could have both arms wrapped around him. Stiles placed his hands over where John's were resting on his chest and stomach, pulling one down to where his boy was hard and dripping against his belly button.

John closed his hand around Stiles' dick, just holding it for a moment. He let Stiles get anxious, start shifting to fuck into his father's hand before finally starting to roll his hips against Stiles' ass and force him forward into that waiting hand.

"Okay," Stiles gasped, trying (and mostly failing) to stay silent and smother the little moans. "Okay."

John huffed out an amused and annoyed little laugh. "Sleeping means you're quiet."

"I talk in my sleep," Stiles shot back, grinding back on John's dick like he was hungry for it. Those hands over John's moved away one was working it's way between their bodies to just cup the head of John's cock where it emerged from between those sweet little cheeks. "I sleep walk too."

John jerked forward harder, the hand not holding Stiles' dick tightening it's grip on Stiles' hip to almost bruising tightness as he ground forward against his boy's ass. "That-that so?"

"I never thought," Stiles started, shifting back and forth frantically between John's cock and his hand. "I wanted--" He cut himself off with a little groan. He was starting to get a little slick from sweat with the heat between them and the exertion of their movement. John couldn't help himself when he licked a line up Stiles' back and onto his shoulder before biting down and sucking a bruise onto him.

"Fuck, dad!"

Being called 'dad' in this situation only made John hotter, made him hunch in as he pressed Stiles down against the mattress to hump his tight little ass. He couldn't fuck his boy, but he could simulate it like this.

Moans were punched right out of Stiles now, both hands clawing at the sheets as he was pushed around like a doll. John wrapped both hands around his boy's hips, holding him in place to be rutted against. He could feel each time his dick passed over that twitching, needy little hole, but couldn't do more than that.

"You like that?" John groaned, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck as he frantically worked to get himself off and mark Stiles up with his cum.

"Yes--yes!"

John leaned down to suck another mark onto the back of Stiles' neck, claiming him on a primal level he couldn't quite understand. He was working his hips desperately, groaning as each movement seemed to be catching the head of his cock on the rim of Stiles' too tight little hole. It only took a few more thrusts before that sweet little pucker was opening up just enough for him to work the tip in.

Stiles shook beneath him at that, muffling a scream into his pillow as he came, so worked up from the friction and the promise of his daddy's cock.

John held himself there, jerking off as he savored the sucking heat around the very tip of his cock. It didn't take much more than a few strokes before he was creaming Stiles' hole, cum oozing out onto Stiles' boxers and the sheets. "Fuck--fuck, son."

It wasn't until he was done cumming, dick finally starting to go limp that he heard Stiles' dazed little, "Thank you, daddy."

**Author's Note:**

> Also on Tumblr!
> 
> getreadysetnope.tumblr.com


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